


The Path Of Irreversible Scars

by MusicMagician96



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Music, Superheroes, Urban Fantasy, inspired by DC, inspired by marvel, superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicMagician96/pseuds/MusicMagician96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the greatest danger to a loved one comes from the least expected places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path Of Irreversible Scars

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is my first post on AO3! And not only my first post on AO3 but also my first story posted on the internet at all! Yay! And differently from what I'd ever thought, it's actually one with original universe and characters, and not fanfiction. I'm not even sure if one can post original work here, but I hope one can. I genuinely liked this, unlike 99% of anything I try to write. This was a one-shot which concept basically "dawned" on me and I had to write it down no matter what. It was something really natural, I basically finished writing the first complete draft in one day only, because it really did resonate with me. After months and thousands of revisions, I really liked the result, and I wanted to share and get feedback.
> 
> Being this an original, I think I should tell you at least what to expect. Well, I wrote this the first time when I was on a holidays in which I completely binge-consumed thousands of Marvel and DC tv shows, animated movies and even some comics. At the same time, I was binge-listening to Anathema's and Evanescence's discographies. In case you're not familiar with the bands, let's just say they don't usually play happy songs. I think it's kind of inevitable to trace my ideas for this plot back to those. I actually even tried searching if there was something already similiar to my concept, because it sounded kind of even obvious to me, but there wasn't. And this scene was just so vivid in my mind, so I got to writing. And the deeper I got into it, the more the idea made sense to me. And I won't deny, the more I get into comics and their adaptations, the more I wish this were done.
> 
> Anyways, so by my influences here, you can deduce you can expect superheroes and sadness. And you're absolutely right. This is an original hero, not all-to-powerful-in-inhuman-levels and not yet "consolidated" - I mean, he's still in his first year, only starting his activities, long enough to have them noticed and looked with concern by both civilians and criminals, but not long enough to have consolidated an identity. He's situated in urban settings, kind of like Daredevil or the Green Arrow, having to face mostly stuff like organized crime, drug cartels, corruption schemes, etc. This shot, however, is less focused on villains and more focused on his relationship with his younger sister. It's not so focused on action, but rather really heavily emotional, with both characters in a state of absolute vulnerability.
> 
> I can't really tell much more without ending up spoiling you. I already will have to in my trigger warnings though, so I'll basically link you to some of the music that helped inspire me to this, and later I'll put the trigger warnings. If you don't have any triggers, I'd like to you skip the warning if possible in order to avoid spoilers. But if you do, I do recommend you to check them out, because what happens here is heavy and I really don't want anyone to... y'know.
> 
> NICE MUSIC I DEFINITELY WANT YOU TO CHECK OUT  
> Fragile Dreams - Anathema ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsHYSvlsDWw )  
> Lithium - Evanescence ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJGpsL_XYQI )  
> The Path Of Irreversible Scars - Nights Amore ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Agt2SNWFLfM ) [I wasn't listening to him when I first got the idea, but the thousands of revisions I did on this story this past month I did while listening to his discography, and it also had an extremely strong influence on my writing, including the title, so yeah, a must listen]  
> Feel - by me, moi, yo, eu! ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BF8LbREgus ) [because I'm not stupid and I'm definitely going to take the chance to advertise my own music]
> 
>    
> \-----------------------  
> TW: self-harm, suicide attempt, suicide ideation, depression

The weight of the world seemed to be in the air of that room and in Edmund's chest. He failed to remember any moment in his life when he felt half as shattered as he did now - and considering he'd been kept in captivity and tortured for nearly a whole year, that said a lot. But it wasn't like he held himself in such regard to the point of actually caring so much about himself beyond his biology wanting the physical pain to stop; meanwhile, Harmony was his sister, his baby sister, his young, beautiful, sweet and innocent little sister. She was the one he had sworn to protect, long before he even went vigilante, long before he was even captured.

  
"Please, Edmund", his father had whispered to him on his deathbed ten years ago, tightly gripping his hand. "I and your mother have failed you, but I need you to please know we've tried our best..."

  
"Stop it, dad!", with both hands, he took his father's and brought it to his face, weeping his infant tears on it. "You haven't failed us, and you're going to make it..."

  
"Oh, my dear child, there's so much you don't know and I wish I could've told you before it was too late...", tears were streaming down his cheeks. "But now it is, and you know what the doctors said... I just need you to forgive me... ", he coughed, "for everything... I need you to promise me..."

  
"Anything, dad!"

  
"Please, right our wrongs... And take care of yourself and of your sister..."

  
"As if you need me to promise that", he hugged him tight and sobbed.

  
That was the last time he ever talked to his father.

  
And that was also the moment he'd sworn to himself and the world he'd protect Harmony at all costs. He obviously had always loved and cared for her, but he was only a child then. All he had to do was to play with her, and hug her when she cried, and take her to an adult whenever she got hurt. Now he had to go beyond that, he had to be way more than the little boy he was. For her, he had to grow. He had to be a man. He had to be the adult himself, and as such protect her. To honour his father. To honour his mother. And clearly to honour his sister, who he could proudly say, with no hesitation, was the greatest person he knew.

  
She was special, and he didn't say that only as her brother. She was beautiful and growing to be a gorgeous woman, with her emerald eyes, dark blond hair and thin small body getting more curves everyday. She was a passionate learner, with this burning love for studying he could never have, especially all things astronomy. He could listen to her talking about space for hours nonstop, even if he didn't understand much of it, because of her enthusiasm, because of the tone in her voice and the way she excitedly gesticulated while talking about "all that's out there", like she'd usually call it. But she also had great artistic side: she played the violin since childhood, and would flood the house with such wonderful melodies, from generic pop music to classical pieces he never heard, always so flawlessly - and he couldn't even praise her for it, or else she'd angrily punch his arm saying "it's only practice, it sounds awful", "I got everything wrong", "I thought you weren't home, you weren't supposed to hear it".

  
And she was so loving, kind and gentle, more than him and anyone else; she'd always do anything in her reach to help anyone. She once sat down with a beggar on the sidewalk, completely ignoring Edmund's obvious reluctance, talked to him and took him to have lunch with them, paying his meal. She once secretly witnessed a classmate being yelled at and punched by her older boyfriend and dennounced him to the police, after which her classmate was able to get a restraining order. She once saw this little boy in the mall bawling his eyes out after losing his mother, comforted him, wiped his tears and helped him look for his mother. She once gave up her lunch money of a whole week to buy ridiculously expensive medicine for a complete stranger elder in the street. Among an endless series of actions he had witnessed and many more he had not and would never know of. And she never did it in order to be thanked or recognized: her classmate never knew who had anonymously called the police and enabled her to get out of an abusive relationship; although she was very much thanked by the boy in the mall, she was ostracized by his mother, who thought she'd taken him away; and the elder in the street never even saw her face - he had had her near enough to overhear him begging a guy for help and being yelled at, then he only woke up some hours later with the medicine and its receipt in his purse.

  
He strived to have half as much empathy and compassion as she did, and wished he could be 5% of the person she was. She had a heart and a mind of gold, and was the one person he'd think about everyday to get through the whole cursed year; she was a candle in the most abyssal darkness, she was the light in the end of a light-years-long tunnel. He could be lying in a pool of his own blood, feeling excrutiating pain, ready to die if he simply stopped moving - which had happened more times than he could count - but the thought of his sister in his mind would make him continue crawling. When he had fallen witness and victim to the most cruel, vile, horrible and vicious actions of unimaginably twisted people, she was the only reason there actually was any remains of faith in humanity in him.

  
He did all the things he did trying as hard as possible to do what she'd want him to. And that included using all the things he learned, all his scars and all the darkness in him for something good. With her in mind, this past year he'd been anonymously collaborating with the police (with or without their approval) in finding and taking down people using power they didn't deserve to harm others and benefit themselves. He prioritized saving civilians over anything else. He'd only killed twice, when there was absolutely no other way he or another could get out alive. He showed mercy. He handed over everyone and all evidence to the police. Just like his sister would want it. And even though they scorned him, they couldn't argue with the results: he had saved lives, had protected people from all sorts of horrible things; more and more corruptions schemes and businesses were being dismantled, and organized crime was getting more and more fragile and risky as he acted. It was silly to think they could handle it on their own while there were so many sold out police officers, lawyers, district attorneys, judges and politicians between them. He only acted outside the law because the law itself had been sold.

  
"You can see these Phantoms have good intentions and only wants to help", Harmony said once after a special news report on the vigilante. His actions had started gaining so much notoriety he was almost becoming a topic of sociopolitic discussions - and, of course, a hot topic for the press. He was believed to actually be a whole group instead of a lone wold, because no one believed one could do all he did alone, and that group had even been given a nickname, "Phantoms", because no clues or trails were ever left. _Damnit, not like I'm ever going to show up for an interview, but couldn't they at least come up a cooler name?_ , he thought when watching the report with his sister. _Even Phantasma could do the job_.

  
"But this is scary", she continued. "They answer to no one and act alone, which is too much power for one group to have. Now they're only helping, sure, but how can we be certain they'll never let it go up their head? How can we be sure they'll never abuse it and take it too far and hurt innocents? That already happens with usual law enforcement, and they already have people to answer to. What keeps them from doing it too? And even if they stay cool, how can we be sure they won't influence other people, some with way less regard for human rights and with more authoritarian and brutal M.O.s? They're now trying to fill a void the normal justice system either can't reach or is too corrupt and failed to do so, but I really don't think this is going to end up well."

  
She was wrong. Whether she knew it or not, he answered to her. And if anyone tried to corrupt his mission, he'd also take them down. She wasn't simply his younger sister; she was the person who inspired him, who he aspired to be (funny when he, 23 years old, should be the one filling this role for her, 16); and she understood what he was trying to do, even not knowing it was him, which was all that mattered.

  
For this entire time, while he was doing all of that, all for her, he had thought that, despite failing so many people and missions, he could take solace in never having failed her, in always having protected her from everything and everyone.

  
He was so wrong.

  
"Were you ever going to tell me?", he asked at last, with a shaky voice.

  
She said nothing and continued to look away, avoiding his eyes. He still held the bandage on her forearm, even though it didn't bleed anymore, and waited for an answer. He didn't take his gaze off her, as a way to make her sure he wasn't going anywhere.

  
"Were you?", he slightly tightened his grip on her wrist.

  
She wrestled herself against it, in vain, and stayed silent. She grabbed a sheet of the bed with her free hand and wrapped herself on it, as if she was shielding herself.

  
" _Were you?_ ", he repeated, dragging the words.

  
A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it off, while continuing to avoid him. It had been almost an hour since he arrived to find her bleeding out in the bathtub, took her unconscious body in his arms and desperately (even clumsily) used his healing powers on the gash - almost an hour of complete deafening silence, a silence he couldn't stand.

  
"No", her trembling voice broke it at last. "I was never going to tell you. Happy?", there was a crack on the last word and she looked down.

  
He took a deep breath and used his free hand to press his fingers against his eyes. He felt like his chest was tightening and realized his jaw was shaking.

  
_Hold yourself together_ , he ordered himself.

  
"W... Why?", he stuttered.

  
She scoffed and shook her head negatively.

  
"Don't you simply scoff at me, Harmony", he snapped. "I need to know."

  
"What exactly?"

  
He sighed and said nothing for a while as he tried to organize his thoughts.

  
"Everything", he whispered. "For starters, why weren't you going to tell me?"

  
"I don't know", she shrugged, looking forward, a clear tone of sarcasm in her words. "Maybe you simply weren't supposed to know?"

  
She could've stabbed him and it would've hurt less. He was her brother. He was her protector. He was her friend. He wanted to be the one she trusted the most, the one she confided things to.

  
"But why?", his voice cracked in his despair to know where he had failed. "Why, Harmony?"

  
She didn't answer. She kept staring at the window as the delicate curtains shook with the cold wind and the thin rain, absolutely quiet.

  
"For fuck's sake, sis", he heard himself begging. "Talk to me. We're already in this whole...", he gestured to show her wrist and then the room around them, "situation" ( _Fuck, I can never think of the right thing to say_ ), "and I'm not going anywhere and... And... And I just need... I just...", he gulped. " _Please._ "

  
She exhaled as she put some of her hair behind her ear. She tried to wrestle her other hand free, but so faintly and weakly it felt like she wasn't even trying at all.

  
"Why weren't you going to tell me?"

  
"Because no one's supposed to know, least of all you. You, most of all, should never know", she answered at last, barely audible, and went silent again, looking down and away.

  
_She's been avoiding my eyes since I got here_.

  
"Harmony, look at me", he firmly requested.

  
She grew stiff and her eyes widened. He lifted his fingers to her chin and turned her face to his. She tried looking down, but he lifted her head up, his eyes on hers; hers were red rimmed and still held a youthful gleam, but it felt bleak and faded.

  
It was three seconds before she slapped his hand off and looked down and away again. He nevertheless held her chin and turned her face to his one more time.

  
"Sis, look, I...", he breathed in deeply. "I can't pretend I know what to say or how to act, but... You are the person I care about the most in the world, I care more about you than even about me, and... There's this thing... I don't know how to get through you, to let you know that... But..."

  
"Stop", she closed her eyes. "Please, stop."

  
He lowered his head, obeying her and caressing her hand.

  
"Then start", he look at her again.

She scoffed.

  
"What can I even say right now, Ed?"

"The truth", he immediately said, only processing the answer afterwards. "The truth. That's all I want."

_That's not hypocritical at all for you to ask her, Edmund. Not at damn all, **vigilante**._

Even in the utter desperation, he diminished the effect of his healing power to leave the huge scar on her arm, and even used a bandage. He never told her about his abilities, about his vigilantism, but he was asking her to share what was probably her deepest and darkest demons.

  
"Like, was I supposed to find you dead before you let me know?", he snapped and grabbed the bloody mirror shard by his side, shaking it, feeling angry, more at himself than at her.

  
"You weren't going to find me dead, I wasn't going to kill myself!", she hissed.

  
"I'm sorry if this huge and deep vertical cut right on a vital vein in your wrist makes me think differently!", he realized he was raising his voice and took a moment to calm down. _Breathe, Edmund. Breathe_. He dropped the shard. "I'm sorry, sis, but you were losing so much blood, I don't know if you'd have made it if I hadn't arrived so quickly, I don't know if you'd make it to a hospital or waiting for help to arrive..."

  
"How did you even know what...", she looked around, maybe looking for a first aid kit he didn't actually have.

  
"It doesn't matter, just be thankful I did, or else you'd be dead right now!"

  
She said nothing, but lowered her head, her eyes unblinking.

  
_Shit, I snapped again_.

  
He got up and turned around; he meditated for about fifteen seconds, rubbing his eyes, desperate for an impossible tranquility and self-control.

  
"Sorry", he almost grunted. "I learned a thing or two while I was away", he turned back to her. "I just can't shake off the idea that maybe that's how you were planning to be right now. Dead."

  
_And I can't imagine what would be of me if you were_ , he thought but didn't say. _And the only reason you aren't is thanks to a psychopathic psychic queenpin_.

  
Earlier that night, he was on a roof of a building, finally face to face with Scarlett after months without seeing her personally. He'd been able to knock out most of her men, mostly from afar, silently, one by one, using his invisibility and teleportation. He however didn't have the same luck with her, and she was running to a helicopter on the roof.

  
But he stopped her. After a long, bloody, painful fight and a helicopter exploding, he managed to stop her.

  
"Oh, you really wanna do this?", Scarlett smirked. "You really think you got me, don't you?"

  
She had hair red like blood, same as her long nails, blue eyes and a never-fading confidence. Like any high-ranked executive, she would usually be found wearing expensive smart clothes and be called by her real name (Katherine, as he had recently investigated and discovered), but in some parts of her businesses (like this one), she rocked a dark crimson, almost black leather outfit, especially sewn for her body and made for physical combat, and was called by her pseudonymous Scarlett.

  
"It's over, Scarlett", he hissed as he pointed his gun to her neck. "Turn yourself in and cooperate with the police, and maybe you won't get a life sentence."

  
She clicked her tongue as she shook her head negatively, pouting her lips.

  
"No, no, I don't really feel like doing that, boy", her voice was like silk.

  
He naively laughed.

  
"You literally have your back against a wall, your weapons on the ground meters away from you, your helicopter destroyed, no one to back you up, the cops to arrive at any given second. You're not in any position to 'feel like' anything."

  
"Oh, no, I am, and I will", she nodded and grinned, her usual confidence of a victor pouring out. "And you will simply turn around and run desperately away as I get out."

  
"You're hilarious. I'm not afraid of you and you know your little mind tricks don't work on me."

  
"But they work on this so adorable girl... She's like 16 or 17... What's her name again?", she acted as if she tried to remember. "Harmony, right? Oh, what a pretty name, and what a lovely girl!"

  
He froze at the mention of his sister, dread almost overcoming him, but held himself together and touched his weapon on Scarlett's neck.

  
"Why are you bringing a teenage girl into this?", he growled, finding it hard to pretend she was just another unknown civilian.

  
"Oh, but she's already part of this", she chanted. "In fact, she's actually central, the whole point of this."

  
" _What are you talking about?_ ", he dragged his words. " _What have you done to her_?"

  
"Oh, nothing yet, and I'm not doing anything", she answered with ease. "She is the one right now crying and screaming desperately, all alone in her bathroom... Oh, she's just punched and broken the mirror with her mere fist, and is that a blade she's grabbing?"

  
_She's making my sister..!_

  
"Stop. It. Right. Now.", he did anything not to let his voice crack. "Get out of her head and let her drop it."

  
"I'm not doing anything", she calmly replied. "I'm just seeing what's happening and telling you. And haven't you learned it yet, boy? I can't mind control people, I can only enhance what's already there. And oh, dear, it's always been there; it's been on all the friends she stopped hanging out with one by one until she was completely alone; it's been on that violin she abandoned in her room and haven't played in almost a year; it's been on her sudden lack of interest of astronomical events and her having kept the telescope you've given her in the closet; it's been in her constant refusals to attend any kind of social event whatsoever; it's been on her eternal withdrawal from any family left, if you know what I mean; it's been on her never leaving the room, and silently crying herself to sleep almost every night, without even knowing why most times; it's been on those long sleeves she always wears, even under the most scalding sun".

  
_How in hell does she...???_

  
"Liar!", he yelled, his voice breaking despite himself, and pressed his gun, his fingers firm on the trigger, more tightly against her skin.

  
"Oh, little boy, we both know you don't have the stomach for it", her tone was of a mother gently telling her child why they couldn 't have candy. "Luckily for you, I'm also feeling sort of merciful right now. For a moment she got a liiiiittle tiny bit too angry and less careful, and she out of the complete blue decided to cut vertically, and more deeply, for the first time, and she only slipped... A _liiiiittle_ tiny bit. But oh my God!, it's bleeding way more than it usually does!", she faked fear. "She must've hit a vein she wasn't supposed to, and now she can't control the flow! This was why she only cuts horizontally, damn! She doesn't understand why she used so much more force this time! She's so scared and afraid right now, so desperate! She doesn't want to live, but she doesn't want to die yet either, she just wants to feel..."

  
He aimed his weapon at her hand, trying to keep his rage in check. He couldn't risk his sister being in danger, and he didn't think it was a small or unlikely risk, but couldn't let that woman escape. He'd maim her and leave her motionless to the police while teleporting back home.

  
"Now if you do that, I could easily enhance her wish not to live, y'know? It's also there, and it's vivid. I can make it have a little more of a hold on her, make her feel it's probably about time, and that she should probably just let it happen, maybe even make sure of it, and embrace the peace at last..."

  
No longer able to hold the anger back, he smashed her nose with his fist, aimed at her forehead and screamed at the top of his lungs.

  
"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, BITCH! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

  
"Even if you were, you underestimate how quickly and easily emotions can be influenced", she wiped the blood from her nose as if it was just spilled water. "My personal record is half a second."

  
His hands were shaking.

  
"Now, little boy, littler girl needs your help. You can save her or stop me from leaving. You cannot do both", she smiled again. "Be quick. Clock's ticking, blood's flowing, from her wrist down the drain, as she simply lies there..."

  
He grunted, tried to concentrate all his hatred for her in his fist and punched her jaw. He then released her and turned away.

  
"This isn't over, Scarlett."

  
"It sure isn't", she agreed, the weight of her confident smile hovering over him. "But now I'm certain that even if I can't get in your head, getting in your sister's does the job. See you later, Eddie-boy. Or would you rather keep being called Phantom anyway?"

  
How she had found out his identity, how she had found out who was his sister, how she had found out all that about them, it was all a mystery to him. But right now it was the only thing that saved his sibling's life.

  
"I wasn't going to kill myself, okay?", Harmony squeaked in response to him back at the present. "I... I...", she closed her eyes, gulped and rolled up her sleeves, shirt and skirt, all with stains of blood, revealing countless scars of cuts and burns. "I've done this before and... I could always keep it safe, but... I kind of was feeling worse than usual this time... And I risked doing vertical... And I slipped and..."

  
_'It's been on those long sleeves she always wears, even under the most scalding sun...'_

  
He shut his eyes and rubbed them with a bit more force than he probably should. He had already seen scars on the arm she cut earlier, but seeing her body covered with those marks was the final blow. He could no longer stop the tears from rolling down his cheek. He quickly turned his back, but in vain.

  
"Y... You're crying", she stuttered. "Y... You never cry."

  
"How long have you been doing this?", he cut her off, almost stumbling upon his words.

  
She breathed shakily as she prepared herself to answer.

  
"T... The first time was about t... Two and a half years ago..."

  
"Fuck..."

  
_Two years. Since before the cursed year. And even after coming back I didn't see it. A whole year without seeing it. A whole year without hearing her silence. And it'd go on for even longer hadn't it been for a murderer and criminal mastermind outsmarting me and using this to threaten me._

  
"This whole... You... I...", he couldn't make sense or speak firmly.

  
He needed to put himself together and stay strong for her, but was failing miserably.

  
"Look, you don't need to worry, I... I got this under control..."

  
"You've been literally torturing yourself for over two years, right under my nose, and almost bled to death now!," he yelled. "That is definitely not my definition of 'under control'!"

  
"Look, you were gone before I started doing it more often", she raised her voice. "I've only done it twice before, but I started needing it more as bad stuff happened, and it was my way of keeping it together..."

  
_I was tortured by blood-thirsty stranger criminals there while she tortured herself here._

  
"I learned how to stay discrete during that time", she continued. "Don't blame yourself for me being able to do that, please. Don't blame yourself for me doing that. It's not your fault. You need to believe me when I say I'm fi..."

  
"If you say you're fine, I swear to God..."

  
"You know, I don't even know why I'm trying to explain this, it's not even any of your business..."

  
In the blink of an eye he turned to her and grasped her hands, almost as if she was a criminal trying to escape.

  
"You are my sister and the person I care about the most in the whole world", he said slowly. "How the hell is you hurting yourself not of my business?"

  
She looked away, but didn't try to free her hands.

  
"Look, sis", he knelt before her on the floor while she stayed sat on the bed and tried to speak calmly. "I need you to look at me, can you do that?"

  
"I...", she whispered. "I've never seen you like this..."

  
"And I've never seen you like this either", he half chuckled, lifted one hand to her jaw and turned her face to him. "And look, I... I can't stand it. I can't stand seeing you like this..."

  
"Which is why you weren't supposed to know", she pleaded. "I've always known you'd freak out even though I am okay..."

  
"You can't be okay while doing this to yourself", he gestured to her scars on her thighs, hips and arms.

  
"But I'm hanging in fine, doing my stuff just fine..."

  
"Like frequently skipping school? Never seeing any of your friends? Not playing the violin anymore? Not ever getting your telescope to look at the sky at night?". _It was all right in front of me. Right. In. Front. Of. Me. Why didn't I see it. Why didn't I fucking see it._

  
"No, no", she hurriedly nodded negatively. "No, Ed, it's not like that, it's temporary, it's normal to sometimes..."

  
"Harmony, no more excuses", he was firm. "Neither to me, nor to you", he made sure her eyes were on his. "You need help."

  
She nodded negatively.

  
"I don't want help. What about that? I don't need help. I don't."

  
"You say that, but your eyes scream otherwise."

  
She immediately, but in vain, tried to turn away.

  
"I don't need it, okay?", she snapped, clearly angry, looking down. "I don't want it and I don't need it. I've got everything. I'm child of millionaires, I live in a mansion in a rich neighbourhood, I'm a straight A exemplary student, I was invited to play in the city's orchestra, everyone acts like they love me, my brother _literally_ came back from the dead... I'm completely privileged and spoiled, there's nothing I need help with, if I don't appreciate having the world handed to me in a silver plate that's because I'm simply another ungrateful teenager, not because I..."

  
"Oh, dear...", it suddenly dawned on him and he recognized it.

  
"What now?!"

  
"You think you don't deserve to get better."

  
"What???", she scoffed. "You think..? Oh my God, you're out of your mind..."

  
"I'm not the one with arms, hips and thighs covered with self-inflicted wounds."

  
"OKAY THEN, I HURT MYSELF!", she suddenly screamed and, with one move, she freed her hands; she got up and started walking around him, while he remained knelt. "I grab a knife, a blade, anything sharp, and I press it down my skin until I can see blood and I slide it sideways!", while she walked, she mercilessly messed with her hair and imitated the move she described. "I grab a lighter, put it barely inches away from my skin, and challenge myself on how long I can hold it there!", she ignited an imaginary lighter against her arm. "Did you know once I could hold it for ten whole seconds??? Because I could! I could, because the pain stings, and takes over my entire body, and makes my mind go absolutely blank, and I love it! _I bloody fucking love it!_ ", she rubbed her face from the middle to the corners, blurring her make-up. "I can take responsibility and I can punish myself and bonus!, I can _feel!_ ", she randomly changed the pitch of her voice throughout the sentence. "I can feel something that isn't a total void, or guilt, or frustration! Which I think it's even so much more than I deserve, but I only realized that too late and I'm too weak to stop!"

  
She looked at her most recent and almost mortal cut. "I could make it all stop if I could", she put her hands around her neck in a strangling position, "make everything simply end", she fired an imaginary handgun to her temple, "but there's _someone_ ", she gestured to him, "who thinks he knows and loves me when he only sees a mirage, but he genuinely cares so much it doesn't make a difference and would blow him all the same!", she started laughing. "It's a weird thing, like, I feel as if my own brother and my care for him are anchors stopping me from flying freely to the peace of death. My own brother! An anchor! And it makes me angry! I get angry at my own brother simply for existing and caring for his thought of me!", tears rolled down her cheeks and her nose as she shouted. "I don't deserve peace, you see?, but I still look so desperately for it!".

  
She lowered herself and brought her face very close to his. "I hate every aspect of my personality and every inch of my body and everything about my existence. I've got all reasons to, and if anybody got to know the real me, they would too; and I feel absolutely _nothing_ except that". She looked right in his eyes, and he could feel her breath. "I'm a little spoiled, ungrateful, shitty masochist who likes and wants pain to punish herself and to be able to feel. Is that what you wanted to hear, Edmund?", she got up, but started closing in over him. "You want to hear me saying I'm fucked up? You want me to play the part of the scarily crazy girl?", she rocked her head and spun her hands around it. "Is this scary crazy enough for you already? 'Cause this is what I've got! Am I scary yet? BOO!"

  
Her make up was extremely blurred, mascara running down on her wet cheeks; her hair was an utter and complete mess; the bed sheet was still wrapped around her shoulders, and so was the bandage on her wrist, still very red and wet; her sleeves, shirt and skirt, stained with blood, were still rolled up, showing skin covered with countless self-inflicted cuts and burns; she had her arms stretched, palms wide open, and she closed in over him like a little child imagined a monster would do.

  
Edmund slowly got up on his feet, not once taking his eyes off his sister's, who stood silent with a confused frown on her face.

  
"Haven't you learned it, Harmony?", he chuckled sadly. "You can never scare me. When we were kids, you made it your life mission to scare me, remember? You'd try it every week, sometimes many days in a row. You'd always try to catch me by surprise and give me a fright", he wiped her cheeks and realized her jaw was trembling - just like his. "And you failed every single time. No exception", he gave another sad chuckle. "And you still can't scare me, sis. You can't", his voice failed as he felt the taste of his own tears.

  
She tried not to, her eyes desperate, her jaw shaking, but she at last let her head down and started sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her little and skinny body and took her in, one hand placing her head on his chest, against which she loudly bawled and screamed.

  
"Help me", she yelled as she held on to him like a life depended on it. "I want to die, Edmund, help me... Please, help me, I want to die, I want to die, I want to die..."

  
He softly caressed her head and her back, and let her cry her eyes out.

  
"It's all going to be fine", he whispered against her hair. "We'll get through this. You'll get through this. It's all going to be fine. I promise."

  
She continued wailing and heavily shaking in his arms.

  
"Please... Please...", she begged. "I want to die. I don't want to live. I don't want to live. I want to die. I need to die. I have to die."

  
He kissed her brow, tightened his embrace as if she (and he too) would fall to pieces if he didn't, and laid his face on the top of her head. He closed his eyes and, with her, quietly sobbed for the first time in ten years.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is my one-shot! I really hope you have enjoyed at least some of it. I'm still a very amateur writer though, and this is my first post on this website, and perhaps one of my only complete stories HAHA 
> 
> So please, leave a comment with your thoughts on this, so I can get better with my writing! It really means a lot to me!
> 
> And have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night <3


End file.
